Excerpt

Copper Creek, Colorado, Rocky Mountains
Tuesday, June 5, 1877

McKenna Atchison climbed down from the wagon and surveyed the not-so-quaint-looking community of Copper Creek. The mountain town was rougher than she’d envisioned from her cousin Janie’s descriptions in her letters. More rustic with its clapboard buildings, some slightly leaning and arthritic in appearance, their cracked paned windows staring out like empty bloodshot eyes on unsuspecting passersby.

With the sun beating down overhead, McKenna held firm to the belief that she’d made the right decision in coming west—as if her younger brother’s behavior back in Missouri had given her a choice.

Staring up at Robert seated on the wagon bench, she read familiar disdain in his smirk. “All I’m asking, Robert, is that you take the wagon and go on to Vince and Janie’s so they’ll know we’ve arrived.” She worked to keep the frustration from her tone, and failed. “It’s only a half mile or so from town.” She gestured to the envelope on the bench seat beside him. “The directions are in her letter. I’ll meet you there shortly.”

Robert didn’t move. “I don’t see why I can’t go on with you to the livery.” He gave the letter a cursory glance. “I’ve never even met these people.”

“Yes, you have. I’ve told you—” She caught herself, realizing it was no use, considering the stubborn set of his jaw. “You don’t remember them because you were too young. But they’ll remember you.” In appearance, her brother was almost a man, even though he was only fourteen, nine years her junior. “Though they won’t recognize you, that’s for certain. Now please...” She exhaled. “Just do as I’ve asked... I’ll work out the details with the livery owner and join you shortly.”

Using more force than necessary, Robert released the brake on the wagon. “You’re probably right, sis. It’s best you go instead of me. We both know you’re the one he’s hired anyway. Whether he knows it yet or not.” He gave the reins a hard whip.

The wagon jolted forward and McKenna jumped back, the wheel narrowly missing her boot. Her patience threadbare, she watched him go. How could she love that boy so much and still feel such anger against him?

Seeing Robert’s natural ability in the way he managed the heavy rig, she felt a familiar touch of envy. There wasn’t a rig he couldn’t handle, or build, for that matter. No matter the size. Saddlery equipment and supplies they’d brought from home weighed down the wagon bed—tools of their father’s trade she hadn’t been able to part with. No matter how destitute their father’s untimely passing had left them. In so many ways...

Wagons cluttered the main thoroughfare but Robert maneuvered his way around them without a hitch. McKenna held her breath as he cut close corners on two freighters—twice. Intentionally, no doubt, judging by the smart tip of his hat to the drivers as he passed. Each driver threw him a dark look and both were large enough to break Robert in two. Not an easy task with her brother’s broad build.

Her eyes narrowed, part of her praying Robert wouldn’t do anything to further provoke the men, while the rest of her wondered if a good thrashing might do him some good. Her own hand at disciplining him had never been a strong one, but then again she hadn’t sought the role of mother that God had thrust upon her at such a young age. Please don’t let him do here what he did back home. This move was their chance to start over again, and they wouldn’t get another one. She couldn’t afford for this attempt at a fresh beginning to fail.

A surprisingly cool breeze swept down from the mountains and granted reprieve from the heat. The air here—she took a deep breath and her lungs tingled with the cool—tasted like God had breathed it fresh from heaven’s storehouse that very morning.

Structures made of hand hewn pine dotted the main road, closely spaced, as though still huddled together from the harsh winter Janie had given account of in a previous missive. And yet, already, McKenna had a liking for this place, preferring it to the bigger city feel of Saint Joseph that she and Robert had left behind.

She arched her back and stretched the taut muscles in her shoulders and neck, weary from the two-week journey west and from today’s travel from Denver. Lengthy hours spent alone with Robert in the wagon had been made more so by his sullen sighs. Wordless, he’d guided the rig over steep mountain passes still patchy with snow, each flagging mile bearing some mark of his repeated desire not to be here.

Pushing those thoughts aside, she grasped her skirt with one hand and made for the boardwalk, avoiding numerous deposits left from animals that had passed that way earlier. People occupying the planked walkway and those milling inside the entry to the mercantile nodded when their eyes met hers.

She returned their smiles when offered. Perhaps she truly could start over in this place. Where no one knew about their past, about what had happened.

Seeing a kindly looking man standing nearby, she approached him and inquired about directions to the livery.

“Which one, ma’am? We got us three.”

Three? She hoped Janie’s advice about which livery to contact had been sound. She needed the livery that would provide the most business for her and Robert. After the cost of traveling here, their funds were nearly depleted. “I’m referring to the livery owned by a Mr. Casey Trenton.”

He pointed. “Trenton’s place is on the other side of town, toward the mining camps.” The man—short of stature but with a wealth of girth about his waist to compensate—pursed his lips and eyed her up and down with improper leisure. “You just get off the stage, miss?”

McKenna caught the hint of onions on his breath, and something untoward in his manner. “Thank you for your assistance.” She moved past him down the uneven walkway, ignoring his repeated attempt to pursue the conversation.

She headed in the direction he’d indicated, discreetly glancing behind her to make sure he wasn’t following. He was, but only with his eyes. She took the nearest side street. For all their boast and swagger, men were an easily read gender consisting of too few chapters and all too common a subject.

It felt good to walk and she was eager to get her business conducted with Mr. Trenton, the livery owner, and find her way out to Vince and Janie’s before sunset. Which might be sooner than she expected with Copper Creek being nestled so close between the mountains. A supply depot to nearby mining towns is what Janie had called Copper Creek, which McKenna hoped boded well for the use of her and Robert’s talents.

It would be good to see Janie again after all these years, Vince too. Janie was a cousin by blood, but a sister in heart. The sister McKenna had always wanted. Janie could well have had their second baby by now. She was due any day. The last letter McKenna had received had been dated two months ago, but spring was a busy time on a new ranch, not to mention when one had a five year old running underfoot. How well she remembered Robert at that age.

“Good afternoon, ma’am.” A young woman smiled as she passed on the boardwalk, a little boy situated on one hip and a slightly older one holding on to her skirt, trailing behind.

“Good day.” McKenna grinned seeing the little boy’s short legs pumping to keep up, his smile saying he was enjoying the challenge. Robert had beamed that very same way as a toddler, clutching her skirt as they headed to the mercantile together. As the memories rose, her smile waned. All that seemed like another lifetime now.

She lifted her gaze to where the sun crept steadily toward the snowcapped peaks, lustering the mountains a burnished gold. A deepening certainty settled inside her about Copper Creek, and about her decision to move west. She’d prayed long and hard about it, spending many sleepless nights until finally...she’d felt a nudge inside. Or she’d thought she felt it.

Some days, admittedly, she wondered if she’d only been grasping at the last proverbial straw. Either way, they were here.

She peered into shop windows as she passed—a women’s clothier and a cobbler’s shop, and a bakery where the door stood propped open. The aroma of freshly baked bread and something else sweet drifted through the portal and caused her pace to slow. Cooking was a talent she possessed in fair amount but baking was not. As a young boy, Robert had let her know with no uncertainty that her leftover biscuits made excellent fodder for his sling shot. And he’d been right.

But a woman couldn’t be good at everything. Best to learn early on what your strengths were and make the most of them. She’d been forced to learn hers early enough, her weaknesses too, which were plenty. She reached the end of the boardwalk and stepped down to the street. Some people might say she’d been forced to learn them at too young an age...

Excerpted from The Inheritance © 2009 by Tamera Alexander. Published in Nashville, Tennessee. Thomas Nelson is a registered trademark of Thomas Nelson, Inc.